Palo Duro canyon isn’t far from Amarillo.

If you head east from Amarillo you hit the Texas Palo Duro State Park where you can drive down into the canyon and access its visitor center and exhibits. On road cuts in the canyon below Alan’s home we look for Indian arrow points lost in ancient hunting miscues. When we drive into the deep canyon to fish we take his 1950’s Willy’s jeep and drive way back deep into the canyon gash in the Earth’s arm.

From this bench, the new morning view is spectacular.

Light comes to our side of the planet as the other side turns dark. The switch from dark to light comes quickly. Within thirty minutes we go from a point where I can’t see the creek in the bottom of the canyon to a point I can see the entire creek, as well as homes and houses on the rim of the far side of the canyon.

I wonder who is sitting on a bench on the other side of the world looking at their spectacular sunset, the flip side of my morning?

There are small paths leading out to the benches so I know my brother Alan gets out here too.

This still cool morning, I hunker down in my light jacket.

On Thanksgivings, when I visit, we watch football after turkey dinner and I fall asleep.

Having just one day a year where we are thankful and celebrate just doesn’t seem enough.

Texas, where my dad was born and raised, almost feels like home.





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